The air in the abandoned apartment hangs thick with dust and neglect, as though the building itself is holding its breath. The single, flickering lightbulb above you casts long, wavering shadows across the room, illuminating the grime-coated walls and forgotten furniture that litter the floor. The coldness in the air gnaws at your skin, and the ropes cutting into your wrists feel like a constant, painful reminder of your helplessness.

The kidnappers—three of them—move like predators in the dark. Their eyes never leave you.

The bulky man with the scar across his face stands closest, his gaze sharp and menacing. He seems to savor your discomfort. He steps forward, his heavy boots thudding on the wooden floor as he leans down "Your dad's too persistent," he growls. "We gave him a warning. Now we make sure he listens."

His breath is foul as he gets even closer. "He needs to stop digging into things he doesn’t understand, or things will get worse for you."

As if on cue, the door bursts open, and there stands Jackie Chan—your father, as calm and composed as ever. His eyes quickly scan the room, taking in the kidnappers, the clutter, and then, finally, he looks at you—determined but gentle.

"You shouldn’t have messed with my family," Jackie says, his voice firm but warm.

Before the kidnappers can react, Jackie moves like lightning. One reaches for his gun, but Jackie swings a nearby chair with precision, knocking the weapon from his hand. As the second kidnapper charges with a crowbar, Jackie grabs a trash can and kicks it into the man’s legs, sending him crashing into the debris. The third, wielding a knife, lunges at him, but Jackie effortlessly disarms him with a broken bottle, sending the knife skittering away.

The room falls silent as the kidnappers lie sprawled on the floor. Jackie looks at you, his expression softening.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he unties your ropes.